Sherlock and the Doctor
by Escharian
Summary: A crossover inspired by a post I noticed on tumblr.


Baskerville.

A top secret military research base. Experiments were supposed to be contained there, and of course, on the record, they were. However, experiments were just that. Experimental. Things got out of hand, of course, just like anywhere else.

Unrestricted access was not something that happened to just anyone. Of course not, the government _does_ have its secrets after all. However, to the select few, they are privileged to secrets that one could only imagine. Sherlock Holmes was one of the few. But his story comes in a bit later on the list.

"Damn it to hell."

Amy sighed and shook her head, "Give up already. We're not going to get out."

Rory turned and glared at her, shaking the bars of the cell one more time, "So we're just going to give up then? I didn't sign up for this," he states, annoyed. Looking back to the exit, he groaned, shaking the bars.

His mind's eye traveled back a bit to just how they'd got here. One minute they'd been whizzing through the stars, in that wonderful, impossible blue box, the next there was this flash of white light. He and Amy had somehow been grabbed out of space and time then dropped somewhere they certainly didn't belong.

There had been quite a bit of surprise when two _people _suddenly popped into the experiment room. Of course, surprise was immediately followed by capture and study, considering the experiment itself seemed to have been one based around interstellar travel. Of course, then they ended up here. Did it matter that they were human? Not in the slightest.

"He'll come Rory. Just relax."

Rory gave her a look, before sighing and dropping into one of the seats. At least the white cell wasn't lacking uncomfortable chairs. He slammed his fist against the wall, "We're always waiting on him. What's taking him so long!?" he exclaims angrily.

Amy simply shrugged, "Perhaps he's fighting his way in here? I mean… however the Doctor fights…" she says trailing off as she thinks about it…

"No no no…" the Doctor curses, dancing around his magnificent blue box. The TARDIS flew through space/time without any regard for the outside world, although he was fully aware of Rory and Amy's absence. What he couldn't do, however, is find them!

Whatever had beamed them away had left some form of trail, but it was such a sloppy device that he couldn't make heads or tails of it. It was as if it'd passed through dozens of different times and universes in some sort of zig-zag line. He had to follow it along piece by piece, otherwise he'd risk losing it for good. It was vanishing quickly too, but thankfully he managed to stay quite a ways ahead of the fade point.

After ages of wandering through the cosmos, he came to the last place he'd expected: Earth. Raising an eyebrow, he gave a half smirk, "Geronimo then!" he calls out to himself. Perhaps he was insane. Perhaps he just liked to talk to himself. Better men have tried to figure out which.

Amy suddenly stood straight up, a familiar and all too welcome sound filling her ears. _Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh._ Rory had decided to take a bit of shut-eye; after all, they'd been in there for almost a day now. Without any form of dramatic flourish, the Doctor appeared in front of the bars, "Someone call for a locksmith?" he asks. _Zzz!_

With that ever-present screwdriver, the door to the cage popped open and slide aside, and Amy leapt out to hug him quickly. She pulled back, the Doctor offering a smile, before her hand _cracked!_ across his face. "What the hell took you so long?"

He held his face for a moment, before grinning lightly, and those three, charming words popped out of his mouth, "Come along, Pond."

She grinned lightly, turning back to the cage, "Oi! Lump! Wakey wakey, eggs and bacey!" she called.

The blond jerked up as he looked at Amy, blinking out the sleepy, before his eyes narrowed on the Doctor. "About damn time," he curses, before sliding out of the bunk. He walked right over to them, before there was a sudden _clunk!_ All three heads turned towards the second door, down the hall, as it slowly opened up, white lining…

"Why?"

"… Because it's a case. You like cases…"

"True. Mostly. Fine."

_Click._

The phone hung up without so much as a goodbye. Perhaps Sherlock Holmes wasn't the nicest man, but he still was one of the most brilliant in the world, and everyone knew it. He was damn near a celebrity, solving impossible cases by using clues that the average person would never even see. Some called him a sociopath. Some called him insane.

Really? He was just too intelligent. But that was another story. That had been his brother, one of those mysterious government types. Going back to Baskerville wasn't particularly an idea Sherlock enjoyed, but he occasionally had to do some nice things. People might stop liking him if he didn't. Not that he really cared, though. He started to spin.

No real reason in particular. Sherlock enjoyed a few simple pleasures, and who didn't like spinning in a desk chair? It took a few moments before he suddenly noticed John leaning against the doorframe. He froze.

"Having fun?" the war vet asked. Sherlock's nose twitched. It did that sometimes, and many just thought it was something that happened when he was nervous. Watson knew better; it was what he did when he was embarrassed.

"I was testing the momentum capabilities of the chair to ascertain whether or not it was qualified for my seating in it," the detective says, playing it off with the eternal blank expression of his.

John rolls his eyes, "Of course. Because entertainment is something you don't do," he states, before walking into the room, "Who were you talking to?" he asks, sitting down in one of the other chairs. One of the _unmoving_ chairs.

"Mycroft. We're heading back to Baskerville it seems."

John froze, staring at the brown-haired male for a moment, "You're serious…? I hate that place."

Sherlock shrugs, "We all do things we don't like."

"…fine… when are we leaving?"

"Now."

Watson blinked as Sherlock suddenly stood up and paced out of the room.

"Damn it…" he cursed, before standing up himself. He began to pack, not too much, figuring he'd only be there for a day or two. When he made it out to the car, however, he found Sherlock there already, just wearing his coat and not holding any bags.

"Don't you need anything?" John asked, confused.

Sherlock looked up indignantly, "Come now. They invited me, they'll provide," he says, a completely straight face. He didn't appear to be joking. John opened his mouth to protest, mixtures of '_That's not how it works…_' and '_What goes on in your head?_' flashing through his brain, before he simply closes it and sits down, before shutting the door. The car starts rolling.

_Hours pass…_

It didn't take too long for Sherlock and Watson to get admitted into Baskerville. After all, they were expected. Walking along, one of the soldiers stationed there filled him in.

"…they just appeared out of nowhere. One minute nothing, the next, here. Not flash of light, no sparks, nothing that would allude to it being a fake. It's bizarre."

Sherlock simply shrugged. He was waiting for them to open the damn door already, not to be told things he already knew. The man was having difficulty with it, however, and it was talking a bit for the door to open. Seeming a bit exasperated, he put in the code again, and finally, it began to slid open…

On the other side, stood two men, a woman, and a blue box… one of the men, wearing a bowtie, turned to look, "Hello Sherlock…"

Sherlock blinked, and he gave one of his rare smiles, however fleeting, "Hello Doctor."


End file.
